


Missing: One Bear!

by mattsloved1



Series: The Bear Chronicles [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, bear adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattsloved1/pseuds/mattsloved1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Bear paced in front of the fireplace. The human residents of 221B Baker Street had left four days earlier and it had been three days since he had last seen his partner.  Sherlock, John and Mrs. Hudson are each mentioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing: One Bear!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Patemalah21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patemalah21/gifts).



> A/N: This piece was written for patemalah21's birthday which was on the 21st so I'm a bit late but real life has been far from easy these previous months, in particular the past few weeks. However, she's a wonderful lady and I hope she likes this! I asked her for a situation or three words. She gave me both. She choose curmudgeon, aluminium (and is has to be pronounced properly!) and ostracized. Also, she wanted Sherlock bear to be missing and have to be comforted by John bear once he was found.
> 
> Pat, I feel you should know that neither bear, nor myself, was discovered, captured or killed in the production of the story below. You can still claim to know us! ;-)
> 
> Sadly I still own nothing but the bears and the idea. *Sniffles*

John bear paced in front of the fireplace. Back and forth, back and forth.

 

The human residents of 221B Baker Street had left four days earlier and it had been three days since he had last seen his partner.  Sherlock bear was not above being childish when they argued and would, at times, first ignore and then disappear altogether to let the jumpered bear know he was being **ostracized** as punishment. Normally, after a day or two, he would reappear with his woollen nose high and all was forgiven. 

 

The trouble was it had been three days since their squabble and John bear was past worried.

 

_“Ugh! Say it properly!” Sherlock bear growled_

_Confused, John bear looked up from the rust coloured thread used to separate his soft claws._

_“What?”_

_The consulting detective bear huffed. “I do hate to repeat myself. The word, John, the word! You are pronouncing it like the Americans do! They say uh-loo-muh-nuhm since there is no ‘I’ in their spelling. We include an ‘I’ so it is spelt **aluminium**. Therefore, a true British citizen would pronounce the word al-you-min-nee-um! Honestly, the company I keep!” _

_Before John bear could manage another word, Sherlock bear had thrown his front paws up in the air in agitation and stormed out of the living room._

Nearly seventy hours had passed since then and still there was no sign of the taller bear.  It would be just like the contrary animal to try to break into Mrs. Hudson’s flat to steal the frying pan he had wanted to experiment on.  Yet, even if he had been found by the good landlady, she would have made her way up the stairs to return him to his rightful place on the mantle. Something bad must have happened.

 

At least a dozen scenarios ran through the stuffinged mind.  Number thirteen had started to creep its way in when the doctor bear gave his head a firm shake.  He had waited and worried long enough, now he needed to act.  Sherlock bear could be quite the **curmudgeon** at times but he was still his best friend and, despite his smarts, there were instances when both of them were needed to get out of certain situations. After all, they worked best as a team.

 

He took a moment to look around for any supplies he might need for his mission. A needle lay on top of the table next to a spool of thread and a pair of sewing scissors.  His human counterpart had fixed a tear that had appeared on his beloved Union Jack cushion and not had time to put things away. Knowing it would be difficult to carry more than one thing, John bear thought. 

 

Moments later, he crept through the flat door, thankful Sherlock bear had opened it a crack just after the humans had left.  Clutching the small needle between his paws he made his way to the top of the stairs. Not wanting to lose the needle, he took the sharp instrument and pushed it into his left side, leaving enough protruding so he could twist and then push the end out again.  Once he was finished, the corduroy making up his skin as well as his lovely crème coloured jumper were both pinned quite nicely.

 

John bear grimaced.  It didn’t really hurt but there was a constant feeling of pressure he found uncomfortable.  Squaring his round shoulders, he took a deep breath, remembered who he was modelled after and threw himself down the first set of stairs. After landing, he took a few seconds to make certain everything was still in place and brushed himself off before rolling down the longer flight of stairs. 

 

Once he reached the bottom, John bear wasted no time taking note of the sounds and sights around him.  The front door to 221 Baker Street was locked as Mrs. Hudson always kept it when her boys were not around.  Better to be safe than sorry considering the types that came around sometimes because of the work they did. 

 

The _slightly_ tubby bear hurried to flatten himself against the nearest wall.  He might not have to worry about outside interruption but it would only take a few moments for Mrs. Hudson to enter the entrance if a knock was heard. Capture would mean he had failed in his pursuit and that would just not do. Keeping his back pressed against the wooden material, John bear inched his way around the downstairs until he was crossing in front of the small supply closet.  He paused to glance back at the front door and froze when he heard a slight noise.

 

The stout bear tried not to panic as he swung his head to the left, fully expecting to see an older woman looking down on him in confusion.  No such figure filled the doorway.  He began to move again when a sound of a bucket being hit just after let him know something was going on in the closet behind him.

 

Knowing he would have to be quiet, John bear briefly entertained the idea of tapping out the Morse code for SOS but, after laying his paw against the door, realized he didn’t know how. Filing the thought away for later examination, it was something he could ask Sherlock bear about when they had time later, John bear decided to take a chance and whisper his partner’s name. 

 

Immediately, he heard movement coming towards him and the poor, slightly startled animal back up a step two.

 

“John? Is that you?”

 

The bear being called for rushed back.  “Oh, Sherlock, what are you doing in there?”

 

Distress could be heard in his friend’s voice as he answered.  “I came down to inspect Mrs. Hudson’s aluminium frying pan when I happened to see the door we are currently leaning against open. Curious about its contents I decided to come inside and mentally take inventory.  I had no sooner than reached the back wall when a mop was placed inside and the door closed shut!”

 

John bear placed his paw against the wood as his red felt heart went out to his friend. 

 

“I tried to escape but the bucket is wider than it is tall and any item tall enough if far too slippery.  I can only manage to shimmy half way up before I start to slide down again. I’ve tried to keep track of how much time has passed but our landlady, and any guests our human counterparts might have, keep erratic hours the best of days. I’ve no idea how long I have been here but I can tell you one thing John and that is this, I am bored out of my mind!”  The invisible bear groaned.

 

“Well let’s get you out of there as quick as we can.”  John bear looked around the entrance and was happy to spot Mrs. Hudson’s plastic two step stool beside her door.  Before he moved in its direction, he paused to gather information. “Sherlock, is Mrs. Hudson at home or has she gone out?”

 

An answer was given through the barrier separating the two bears.

 

“She left a short while ago with Mrs. Turner. Since I was forced to overhear their ridiculous chatter, I can tell you it will be some time before the two ladies return.  They spoke of meeting with the other participants of a book club they have become part of. I can only assume there will be a lengthy discussion about the heroine of the insipid tale they are reading while they consume their tea.”

 

Glad to he wouldn’t have to worry about any interruptions, the doctor bear called out a quick, “I’ll be right back!” and hurried off.

 

Getting behind the back of the step ladder, John bear put his left shoulder against the plastic and pushed, grateful when it scrapped quietly against the floor as it moved.  With a few huffs and puffs the ever constant bear made his way towards his captive partner.

 

Making sure to leave enough room to open the door when it was time, the bear pushed the step ladder up until it was perfectly in place. He wasted no time climbing up and wrapping his paws around the door knob.  Giving it a good turn, he also tugged it towards himself. He was shocked when it did not move. Deciding he had not tried hard enough, John bear gave it a more desperate twist and, despite seeing it turn, saw it remain in place once more. 

 

“What’s going on? John! Open the door!” Cried a woollen bear that had spent more time in a dark and slightly smelly space than he wanted.

 

“The door, it won’t open.”  
  
“Are you doing it right?”

 

John bear scowled. “How many different ways are there to open a door?”

 

There was no response.

 

Looking at the front of the knob, John bear noticed a tiny hole.  Staring at it, a memory came to mind.

 

Excited, he let his friend in on the situation. “Remember a few weeks ago? Our keepers were talking about old Mr. Johnson doing some work for Mrs. Hudson and as part of it he replaced a few door knobs as well? This must be one of them! I remember human John talking about how useless it would be in their flat since human Sherlock would be able to pick it open in seconds.”

 

“Are you saying _I_ locked myself in? How, may I ask, is that possible when I am not able to get high enough to accomplish such a thing?”

 

John bear thought for a moment. “I suppose one of the things you tried to climb shifted enough to hit the button to lock. It’s the only thing I can think of.”

 

Not giving his partner a chance to insert any sarcasm, the patient bear continued. “Whatever happened, the door is locked and we need to find a way to open it so we can get you out.”

 

He tried to imagine what could be useful when one paw bumped his left side and he smiled. Reaching down he removed the needle and carefully held it up to the small hole in front of him. A few stabs at the open space and a clicking sound was heard. Placing the needle back into its safe place, John bear grasped the knob once more and gave it a good turn as well as a tug. He was delighted to see it open a tiny bit. Happily, he tugged a second time and was nearly knocked over by the speed and force with which Sherlock bear exited the small closet.

 

He took a moment to steady himself and then quickly made his way to the floor. Before John bear could speak a word, his friend hurried past him and slammed the door shut. 

 

“Never again! Never!” He vowed while he shuddered.

 

John bear placed an arm around his friend’s shoulders and drew him close.

 

“From now on no going off without me, okay? That way we can always watch each other’s back and help the other out of whatever trouble he’s got himself in to.”

 

Sherlock bear placed his forehead against a crème jumpered shoulder and nodded.

 

“Now, let’s put this step ladder away so nothing is out of place when Mrs. Hudson gets home and head back up to our own space upstairs.”

 

Working together, the bears put the ladder away and helped one another climb their way back home.

 

As they entered the living room, Sherlock bear turned once more to his friend.

 

“I am very grateful to you for coming to find me despite my behaviour when we last saw one another.”

 

Reaching around to give his partner a hug, Sherlock bear felt cool metal brush against his paw. Confused, he looked down and was shocked by what he saw.

 

“John! What happened?”

 

Unsure of what had startled the other bear, John bear looked down at himself. Reminded of what was still in his side he blushed and then removed it swiftly, wasting no time in placing the small instrument back onto the table.  He hurried to reassure the bear who, if his woollen skin was able to turn a different colour would have been quite pale, was staring at him.

 

“It was nothing.  I thought it might come in handy and didn’t want to lose it on the stairs.  It made perfect sense to put it there so I could reach it if I needed. Which it turns out I did.” Unable to help himself, John bear smiled triumphantly.

 

Sherlock bear made his way over until he could draw up the edge of John bear’s jumper. “But John, you’ll have tiny holes in your material.”

 

John bear only continued to smile.  “Oh, Sherlock, no one will know except for you and me. It’s barely there. And even if it was a much larger one I wouldn’t care. It would be worth the wound to make sure you’re all right.”

 

At a loss for words, the consulting detective bear gave his best friend a tight bear hug. When they finally released their hold on one another, John bear coughed to cover the slight embarrassment he knew they both felt.

 

“Well, now that you’re back, why don’t we watch some crap telly and you can point out how they’re wrong while I listen.”

 

Sherlock bear nodded and the two spent the next few hours happy in the knowledge they were together once again.

 

 


End file.
